#ignore me ignore me. catie is: going through it

[midastouch013]

"God Must Hate Me"

Based on this request

Summary: When your girlfriend tells you what's making her withdraw from everyone, what do you do?

Warnings: Nat lowkey hating herself. Mentions of God. Self-hatred. Mentions of numbness. Mentions of Red Room. Mention of scars.

----

It had been almost a year since you started dating Natasha Romanoff, and everything had been going perfectly. But lately, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Natasha seemed to be withdrawing from you, from her friends, and from her sister too.

You noticed it first when Natasha stopped joining you for movie nights. She used to love cuddling up with you on the couch, sharing popcorn and watching your favorite films. But now, she always had some excuse to avoid it.

"Nat, I rented that movie you wanted to watch," you'd say hopefully, holding up the DVD as she passed by.

"Sorry, babe, I'm really tired tonight. Maybe another time," she'd reply with a forced smile, already halfway out the door.

You shrugged it off at first, thinking she was just going through a busy time at work. But then you noticed she was avoiding her friends too.

"Hey, Nat, Pepper's invited us over for dinner tonight. She's making your favorite lasagna," you'd say, trying to tempt her.

"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to stay in tonight. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on," she'd reply, barely looking up from her laptop.

Even Yelena couldn't seem to get through to her.

"Natasha, we never see each other anymore. Can we please have lunch together today?" Yelena would ask, looking hurt.

"I'm sorry, Lena, I just have a lot on my mind right now. Rain check?" Natasha would reply, not meeting her sister's eyes.

But it wasn't just her friends and family she was avoiding. Natasha seemed to be retreating into herself more and more each day. You'd find her in the gym for hours on end, pushing herself to the limit with no explanation.

"Nat, you've been in here for three hours. Don't you think you should take a break?" you'd ask, concerned.

"I'm fine, Y/n. I just need to work off some steam," she'd reply, not even breaking a sweat.

Or you'd find her in the garden, sitting alone and gazing off into the distance.

"Natasha, is everything okay?" you'd ask softly, sitting down beside her.

She'd startle slightly, as if she hadn't even realized you were there.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just… thinking," she'd reply vaguely, not meeting your eyes.

And then there were the times when she would accidentally ignore you, lost in her own thoughts.

"Nat, I was talking to you," you'd say, trying to get her attention.

"Huh? Sorry, what did you say?" she'd reply, looking confused.

You watched all of this unfold, feeling more and more confused and sad with each passing day. You didn't understand why Natasha was pulling away from everyone, including you. You tried to give her space, hoping she would open up to you eventually. But as the days turned into weeks, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.

---

As you finished your day's work at the hospital, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Natasha. Clint's call had left you deeply concerned. You knew something was wrong, and you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as you drove home.

Pulling into the driveway, you noticed Natasha sitting on the porch, her gaze fixed on the neighbor's child playing with her dog and toys. There was a sadness in her eyes that made your heart ache.

As you sat silently beside her, Natasha broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

"Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't respond verbally; instead, you simply placed your hand on hers, offering silent support, waiting for her to continue.

"'Cause He spent so much time on them, " she gestured towards the family in the backyard. The father and mother had joined the child, and they looked so happy together. "And for me, He got lazy. Got ample mental illness, personality flaws…" Her fingers subconsciously clenched. "Like, have you seen me? Yelena? Melina and Alexei? How messed up we are."

"While their only flaw seems to be that they have none at all," she continued, gesturing again towards the family. The child sat on the father's shoulders while their mother took a picture of them.

And then Natasha repeated, her voice heavy with emotion, "Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'? Because I do."

As Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, you felt your heart breaking for her. Gently, you spoke up, your voice soft but firm.

"Nat, it's not your fault. None of it is. It's the Red Room's fault, Dreykov's fault, for putting you through all of that," you said, trying to reassure her. "And maybe even God's fault, if one chose to believe in the almighty."

She let out a bitter laugh, her sarcasm cutting through the air like a knife.

"For everything that's wrong with me, I can't hold myself responsible. So I blame the metaphysical, because obviously, they're the ones who killed those people, not me, because I wasn't the one holding the gun," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Natasha continued to speak, her words weighing heavily on your heart.

"You know, a nun came up to me today. She told me that Jesus died for all our sins. If Jesus died for all our sins… He left one behind, the body I'm in," she said, her voice filled with sorrow.

Then, in her usual defensive humor, she added, "That means that the same hands that made the moon and the stars obviously got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts."

You didn't chuckle at her attempt at humor. Instead, you intertwined your fingers with hers, a silent gesture of comfort, and told her not to speak like that.

"I thought you didn't even believe in God," you said softly.

But Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know what I believe. But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.

As the neighbor's child laughed loudly, climbing up the tree in their backyard, her mother fretting while her father cheered her on, Natasha smiled wistfully at them.

" Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, they got lucky'? The craftsmanship of their bones, their brain, and their body," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the family.

She seemed to drift into a reverie before continuing, "All I got at her age…" She pointed to the girl. "Was a fake family, scars, and pain."

"Babe," you started, unsure of what to say.

But Natasha continued, her voice distant, "When I look into the mirror for too long, it hurts. And don't get me started on how I eat. I can eat the least amount of food ever and want to enjoy myself with one dessert, and see another person do the same, except they don't track how many steps it takes to burn off dessert."

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, they got lucky"

I'll let 'em take accountability For everything that's wrong with me Can't hold myself responsible So I'll blame the metaphysical If Jesus died for all our sins He left one behind, the body I'm in Same hands that made the moon and the stars Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts

I don't know what I believe But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me" 'Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy

You listened quietly, feeling her pain as if it were your own. You wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, that she was perfect just the way she was. But you knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to heal her wounds. Natasha's words overwhelmed you, the lump in your throat growing bigger. You wanted to cry too, but you held it in, knowing that Natasha needed you to be strong for her.

"I'll be right back, Nat," you said softly, gently pulling away from her and making your way into the house.

Once inside, you took a deep breath, trying to gain some emotional control. And so you busied yourself making a cup of tea for Natasha, knowing that if you went out right no, you'd be of no help and she'd just shut you out.

As you looked out the window, you noticed that it had started raining. You felt a pang of worry when you saw Natasha still sitting on the porch, getting soaked by the rain.

Without a second thought, you rushed back outside, ignoring the rain as you pulled Natasha in from the porch. She didn't respond, but you wrapped her in the warmest hug you could manage, holding her close despite the rain soaking through your clothes.

"Do you want to change?"

Natasha remained numb not replying , so you too matters into your own hands. You gently scooped her into your arms, carrying her upstairs to the bathroom. She didn't resist, didn't protest, just allowed you to take care of her.

You stripped her out of her wet clothes, bathing her gently, all the while she remained unresponsive. You helped her into your favorite pajamas of hers, knowing how much she loved wearing them, and then tucked her into bed, attending to her needs with care and tenderness.

Despite holding back your own tears, you offered her words of comfort, reassuring her that you were there for her, that you would always be there for her.

Finally, as you tucked her in properly, Natasha showed the first sign of emotion. She grabbed onto your now wet t-shirt, pleading with you not to go, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra.

You gently brushed the hair away from her face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I'm not going anywhere, Nat," you whispered, your voice filled with reassurance. "I'm just going to change my clothes, and then I'll be right back. I promise."

With one last comforting squeeze, you reluctantly pulled away, leaving Natasha alone in the bed as you made your way to the bathroom to change.

After you changed into dry clothes, you climbed back into bed with Natasha, gently dragging her into your arms so that your back was resting against the headboard, and she was nestled between your legs with her back to your front. You wrapped your arms securely around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder, holding her close as she remained numb and silent.

"Nat," you began softly, your voice steady but full of emotion, "I know you feel like everything you've been through defines you, but I want you to see the other side of it too."

She stayed quiet, but you continued, knowing she was listening.

"You talked about your childhood and how it felt like a fake family. But that 'fake' family is the one who threatened to end me when you told them we were dating," you said, a small smile playing on your lips at the memory. "They cared for you so much that when we had that huge argument, Alexei broke down my door and shattered my vase, just to make sure you were okay."

Natasha's fingers twitched slightly, a sign she was absorbing your words.

"That 'fake' family knew you so well that Melina sent me your favorite foods when you were feeling down. And Yelena, she almost killed Clint and me because of Vormir. She loves you so much, Nat. They all do."

You could feel her body gradually relaxing ever so slightly in your embrace.

"And let's not forget the Avengers. Clint has scolded me more times than I can count when we fought. Tony gave us a whole ass house to live in. Steve and Sam drop by weekly just to check in. Wanda and Peter are practically our kids. Kate and Yelena—they're like sisters to us, though I'm sure they're dating at this point. Maria and Fury even gave me death threats when they thought I hurt you, and they are scary, almost enough to rival you and Lena."

You paused, feeling a lump form in your throat as you continued, "Whether or not you realize it, you're so lucky to have people who love you like that. The Red Room did awful things to you, but it didn't destroy you. It made you who you are today. A survivor. A sister. A daughter. A friend. A best friend. A girlfriend."

Tears filled your eyes, but you held them back, focusing on Natasha.

"I'm not saying the Red Room made you stronger, because that would dismiss the pain you've been through. But it shaped you into the incredible person you are. And you are loved, so deeply and fiercely."

You held Natasha tightly, feeling her slowly beginning to trust your words as her body leaned into yours for comfort. The rain continued to fall outside, creating a soothing background noise as you continued to speak, wanting to reassure her as much as you could.

"And that thing you said about not being able to look at yourself in the mirror? That's total bull crap," you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Because you look so freaking hot and sexy to me, Nat. Every time I see you, I can't believe how lucky I am."

You felt her body relax a little more in your arms, and you took a deep breath, continuing.

"I love you, regardless of anything. The Red Room, Dreykov, all the horrible things that happened—they don't define you. What defines you is your heart, your strength, your kindness. And if God really does exist, yeah, he put you through some serious shit, and I hate him for that. But he sure made up for it with the family you've gotten, and he sure as hell blessed me by giving you to me."

Natasha's grip on your arm tightened even more, and she turned slightly to look at you, tears in her eyes.

"Don't go," she whispered again, her voice breaking.

"I'm not going anywhere," you assured her, your own voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here, and I'm staying right here with you."

You held her tightly, feeling her slowly begin to trust your words, her body leaning into yours for comfort. As the rain continued to fall outside, you both sat there in silence, wrapped in each other's embrace, knowing that together, you could face whatever came next.

"I love you, Nat," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "And I'm here for you, always."

She nodded slightly, her head resting against your chest. "I love you too," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with emotion.

As Natasha finally fell asleep, cuddled up against you, you carefully reached for your phone, not wanting to disturb her. You opened the "Widow Family" group chat, which consisted of Yelena, Alexei, Melina, Natasha, and you. You quickly typed out a message:

WIDOW FAMILY 🕷️🕸️

You: Hey Nat rlly needs u all right now. Can u come by in about an hour?

Within moments, replies started to come in:

White Widow: I'll be there.

Red Guardian: Of course! I’ll bring borscht!

Mother Widow: On my way.

Feeling reassured, you then switched to the "Earth's Best Squabblers" group chat, which included all the Avengers. You typed out another message:

EARTH'S BEST SQUABBLERS 🤡🤡

You: Hey guys Nat rlly needs u rn Can u come by ASAP?

The responses were almost immediate:

Tin Can: On my way. Pepper & Morgan too

Capsicle: Be there soon.

Birdy 1: Already heading over. Laura and the kids are tagging

Green Bean: I'll be there.

Metal Arm: Be there in 20

Birdy 1's 2.0: Lena and I are on our way.

Point Break: I shall arrive promptly!

Witchy: I'm coming.

Birdy 2: Be there in a few.

Spidey Boy: Swinging over now!

You put your phone down, feeling a surge of gratitude for the people in your life. Carefully, you adjusted yourself, making sure Natasha was as comfortable as possible without waking her. You held her close, watching her sleep, knowing that soon, the people who loved her most would be there to support her.

--

When Natasha began to stir and slowly opened her eyes, you gave her a gentle smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you said softly. "Someone's here to see you."

She looked at you curiously, and you took her hand, leading her downstairs. As you approached the living room, the sounds of laughter and chatter grew louder. Natasha's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone gathered.

The room was filled with laughter and chatter. Yelena, Kate, Wanda, Peter, Lily and Cooper were huddled in one corner, engaged in animated conversation. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and laughing loudly. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away in another corner, their voices blending into a soothing hum. Nathaniel and Morgan were playing on the floor, while Lila and Cooper were with Peter and Kate, joining in the fun.

Yelena, Kate, Wanda, and Peter were huddled in one corner, talking animatedly. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and exchanging stories. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away, their faces lit up with smiles.

As you led Natasha into the room, everyone turned to greet her, their faces lighting up with warmth and affection. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and guided her further into the room.

Natasha looked around, her eyes softening as she took in the sight of her family and friends, all here for her. You could see the gratitude and love in her eyes.

"Hey, everyone," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Yelena rushed over, pulling her into a tight hug. "About time you woke up, sestra."

"Hey, Nat," Steve called out, raising his beer in a toast. "Good to see you."

One by one, everyone came over to greet her, sharing their love and support. The room was filled with warmth and laughter, a stark contrast to the somber mood from earlier.

As the evening went on, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Natasha perched on your lap, your arms wrapped around her protectively. She was joking around with everyone, her smile genuine and her laughter heartfelt.

At one point, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "Thank you."

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love. "I love you, Nat," you whispered back. "And so do they."

She looked around the room, taking in the faces of her family and friends, and nodded. "I know," she said softly. "I really do."

You held her close, feeling a sense of peace settle over both of you. In that moment, surrounded by the people who loved her most, you knew that Natasha was starting to heal. And you would be there, every step of the way.

[jurygarroth]

my playlists r private :(

but im sending fav songs from them anyways bc i am a nuisance :)

(garroth)

brother // madds buckley

the family jewels // marina

history hates lovers // oublaire

top of my school // katherine lynn-rose

family line // conan gray

time moves slow // badbadnotgood

two birds // regina spektor

my alcoholic friends // the dresdon dolls

la seine // vanessa paradis

-🍃

CHRIST ON A POPSICLE STICK this was hard work but i'll do it for you [pasted + formatted under readmore]

me again!!

(vylad)

god must hate me // catie turner

viva la vida // coldplay

the author // luz

like i remember you // vera blue

wires // the neighbourhood

glory and gore // lorde

dog days are over // florence + the machine

little pistol // mother mother

the hand that feeds // the crane wives

arsonist's lullaby // hozier

the night we met // lord huron

sunlight // hozier

pretty little things // the crane wives

kalmia kid // chloe moriondo

poison // stick and poke

working for the knife // mitski

a burning hill // mitski

where is my mind? // the pixies

hansel // sodikken

hold yourself tight // the scary jokes

bad apple!! // richaadeb

dread in my heart // mother mother

brother // madds buckley

the horror and the wild // the amazing devil

blame // air traffic controller

in our bedroom after the war // stars

liar // the arcadian wild

the moon will sing // the crane wives

time moves slow // badbadnotgood

like real people do // hozier

(aphmau)

sweet hibiscus tea // penelope scott

under my skin // jukebox the ghost

anxiety song // human petting zoo

do it 4 yrself (di4y) // human petting zoo

kingdom dance // tangled

never love an anchor // the crane wives

the moss // cosmo sheldrake

cryptid (mothman) // ratwyfe

i was an island // john-allison weiss

the daughter of the fish and the ram // the scary jokes

vanilla curls // teddy hyde

class of 2013 (live) // mitski

down the river // the crane wives

(dante)

two birds // regina spektor

somewhere only we know // keane

the moon will sing // the crane wives

the tree on the hill / percy jackson musical

a sadness runs through him // the hoosiers

rises the moon // liana flores

second child, restless child // the oh hellos

never love an anchor // the crane wives

overgrown garden // beetlebug

stray italian greyhound // vienna teng

in our bedroom after the war // stars

allies or enemies // the crane wives

come with me // chxrlotte

ready now // dodie

call them brothers // regina spektor, only son

brutus // the buttress

drinking song for the socially anxious // the amazing devil

ramblings of a lunatic // bears in trees

brother // kodaline

war of hearts (acoustic ver) // ruelle

(gene)

ambrosia wine // madds buckley

big bad wolf // roses & revolutions

runs in the family // amanda palmer

bad bad things // ajj

this is love // air traffic controller

teeth // 5 seconds of summer

sheep go to heaven // cake

my heart gies bum bum bum // flatsound

don't blame me // taylor swift

raise hell // brandi carlile

...ready for it? // taylor swift

smoke breaks // daddy and the long legs

somebody told me // the killers

losing face // wilbur soot

tongues and teeth // the crane wives

bird song // florence + the machine

revived // derivakat

i don't take insults lightly // madds buckley

monet issues // chase petra

pomegranate seeds // julian moon

choke // i don't know how but they found me

an unhealthy obsession // the blake robinson synthetic orchestra

villains, pt 1 // emma blackery

mama // my chemical romance

blood - end credits // my chemical romance

ignorance // paramore

all i wanted // paramore

the killing kind // marianas trench

rebels // call me karizma

she's my collar // gorillaz, kali uchis

hayloft ii // mother mother

saint bernard // lincoln

i miss having sex but at least i don't wanna die // waterparks

setting yourself up for sarcasm // get scared

killer // the hoosiers

oblivion // halfy & winks

animal i have become // three days grace

horrible kids // set it off

(travis)

the daughter of the fish and the ram // the scary jokes

imposter syndome (live ver) // sidney gish

burn him down! // kitsch club

friends with you // the scary jokes

catabolic seed // the scary jokes

pink smoke // the scary jokes

agatka (agatha! you're being melodramatic!) // weatherday

anxiety song // human petting zoo

onion boy // isaac dunbar

dr. sunshine is dead // will wood and the tapeworms

should've been me // mitski

pleaser // wallows

you are going to hate this // the frights

hate yourself // tv girl

tell me it's okay - demo // paramore

peach scone // hobo johnson

oh klahoma // jack stauber

achilles come down // gang of youths

nights like these // pigeon pit

i can't make you love me // dave thomas junior

vanilla curls // teddy hyde

self care // penelope scott

ship in a bottle // fin

RLLY LONG ONE BTW

(laurance)

ribs // the crane wives

red moon // will wood and the tapeworms

like real people do // hozier

community gardens // the scary jokes, louie zong

fences // destroy boys

too close // sir chloe

be nice to me // the front bottoms

michelle // sir chloe

mr. loverman // ricky montgomery

505 // arctic monkeys

hopelessly devoted to you // olivia newton-john

still into you // paramore

all i wanted // paramore

hey lover! // wabie

hot rod // dayglow

the bidding // tally hall

baby hotline // jack stauber's micropop

oh klahoma // jack stauber

be calm // fun.

dear fellow traveller // sea wolf

lay all your love on me // abba

eighth wonder // lemon demon

your new boyfriend // wilbur soot

the hand that feeds // the crane wives

your best american girl // mitski

indigo night // tamino

the garden // the crane wives

metaphor // the crane wives

the night we met // lord huron

kiss with a fist // florence + the machine

problems // mother mother

a burning hill // mitski

absentee // jack campbell

i want you // mitski

better than me // the brobecks

cigarette daydreams // cage the elephant

tongue tied // grouplove

since i saw vienna // wilbur soot

never love an anchor // the crane wives

creep // radiohead

a sadness runs through him // hoosiers

oleander // mother mother

the moon will sing // the crane wives

icicles // the scary jokes

dark red // steve lacy

ship in a bottle // fin

under my skin // jukebox the ghost

alrighty aphrodite // peach pit

every other freckle // alt-j

curses // the crane wives

everyone // mitski

down the river // the crane wives

october // the crane wives

time moves slow // badbadnotgood

being so normal // peach pit

grenade // bruno mars

the bug collector // haley heynderickx

[the-young-writer-101]

Student Center Mall

Nicole rushed through the doors and bumped into a whole ass School of visiting high schoolers going opposite her. Slightly muttering, ‘Cuse me,’ she swam up their brainless stream, slingshot herself down the stairs with the railing, and finally got down the shortest two flights of stairs in the fucking world. Nicole fell in and out of each end of the tour group and blasted into the real Student Center. That’s when it got stupider.

The nauseating whiff of coffee and poop was shortly quashed by the unrelenting fundraisers. Bake sales, Pretzel sales, Gum sales, shoe sales - freaking blood sales - and if you don’t give them your money, not only are you the bad guy, but now you made an unknown nemesis – an asshole who will give you nasty looks all four years of college and not even know your name. Luckily, her thick, over-the-ear headphones gave her solace from all that was unholy, from the end of conversations to the beginning of panic attacks – from that noise. That dreadful noise haunted her nights and plagued her days. “Please help save the puppies? It’s only a dollar. We take Venmo, Paypal, Kidneys – your firstborn.” A real-life ad-blocker has never been more wanted. Nicole staggered through two more clusters of students and then saw her last obstacle. The only thing that could ruin an already bad day. The boss of a job that doesn’t even pay – her club president, Caitlyn.

“NICOLE!” She saw Caitlyn dance-speak with a freshman’s enthusiasm and a junior’s confidence. Nicole could have pretended not to have seen her – the headphones would’ve provided an easy excuse; however, Caitlyn’s original course had changed, and the B-line was too direct. Nicole sighed and knew the drill. Off came the headphones, and out came her professional, girlier voice. “OMG. Hey gurl. Howdy.” Nicole will strangle herself later.

“OMG Nicole, literally end me. I hate this school. I’ve literally been running around all day bouncing from office to office, and just when I freakin find the Dean of Students office, she’s like not even there. Literally, it’s been a whole hour. I’m just trying to get a sick note approved!”

Nicole’s speech did an audible eye roll, “Wild.”

“Isn’t it! Uh. I hope my mom can get this all sorted out. My finsta’ understand me. Ya know? Just end me.” Caty hit the whoa’, and Nicole covered a visible gag. “Anywhoose, I wanted to ask if you’ve finished the poster yet?”

The poster! Nicole totally forgot about that poster. “Yeah, the poster. It just needs a bit more polish. It’s gotta be perfect?!”

“Oh, Rad. Well, just let me get it as soon as you can. I want to get the poster up as soon as possible. Hey, did you hear about the new policy? Apparently, we have to CC all of our club emails to a bot that monitors them for suicide-y statements. The school is trying to crack down on hate speech. Like it’s not pog...”

Nicole had zoned out. She only interjected with a ‘crazy’ or ‘yikes’ every time Caty took a breath. If Caitlyn would even take a breath. To her, no one else mattered. The world revolved around her and only her. No matter where she stood, she kidnapped the air from other people’s mouths and didn’t care if they liked it. She forced Nicole to endure her presence even as Nicole just wanted to get to her destination. She looked around at all the people succeeding where she could not and wondered where their strength lay. Was it confidence? Extroversion? A bribe? No, this was something else. People avoided each other like this wasn’t an unrequited pit stop. They breezed through the student center like a stubborn leaf would fight with the pull of the wind toward the earth. Just then, Nicole watched as the Dean of Students exited her office and headed toward the bathroom. The determination, the rudeness, like a focused skater on the ice, the Dean ignored the crowd calling for her attention - she was getting to her destination. Nicole hated it, but she knew what she had to do.

“Hey, Caty, isn’t that the Dean?”

Caty’s eight-track mind flew off the channel and shifted to a different track. Her hand ended their conversation, but her mouth uttered, “Excuse me, Dean Williams. Like, a moment of your time.”

Freedom. Nicole reveled in it and understood its cost. She was an unknown nemesis to someone else. She was an asshole. Not even saying goodbye to her club president, Nicole reinserted her headphones and breezed through the rest of the student center mall with no problems. Finally, Nicole was a full-fledged student.

[mi5018abifiges]

Final Idea - Cat

I want to work with contrast, The contrast between 3D and 2D.

As live action is 3D I want to animate something 2D.

Cat

I love cats, a lot. I weirdly especially like the way they move. I have made several animations of cats over the years and I want to continue to animate them as much as I can. 

I want to animate a cat walking along the top of a wall.

Storyboard:

Animatic

I want to make the cat look as hand drawn as i can, i think it will look good in contrast to the live action. 

Feedback

I showed my animatic and talked about my plan and i got advise on howi should go about achieving the idea. 

I wanted to do the animation completely in 2D, however as my camera movements are going to be changing the prospective on the cat, it would make more sense for me to make the animation in 3D. 

I will create the cat in maya and the animate it in maya. I will make a wall in maya too, just so I can have the cat walking in the correct place. I will then make the Maya wall invisible. 

Motion Tracking:

I took the footage I filmed for the cat animation and took it into Nuke. I motion tracked the footage to make a virtual camera that will move like I did when filming. 

Maya

I opened Maya and imported the virtual camera. I then changed the prospective to looking through the camera. I then added the footage to play as a background. I then created a 3D wall. 

I made the wall invisible and made a practice of the movement along the wall. I did this using a sphere. This was to help me with the movement of the cat when I get around to doing the cat.

The movement is not perfect but it is useful to show where I want the cat to move. 

I then opened a new Maya file and made a model of at cat, by creating a plane shape and extruding the edges:

After I made the cat model I wanted to add fur to it, I researched how to do this and used the X-Gen feature of maya to add fur. I had a problem as I had made the eyes, nose and whiskers, part of the same mesh as the body. This meant that my cat got hairy eyes. I did end up removing the hair for the eyes using the trimming hair tool:

I then used the quick rig tool to rig the cat. i moved where the joints were so that i could move all 4 legs and the head, wherever i wanted to. 

I then started working on the walk cycle. I planned how long the cat needed to walk, then when the cat turns, and when the cat jumps, so it would fit with my footage. Based on the balls movements i knew at what frame i need these movements. 

I started the animation of the walk cycle but maya kept crashing on me, so I removed the x-gen fur to make the software run smoother. I had many problems with the rig, as cats have different joints to us, this made it difficult to have the cat walk like a cat, but i kept going, ignoring the perfectionist mindset. 

Once i was finished with the walkcycle I opened the practice file, of the ball. I deleted the ball and brought in the walking cat. The cat was much bigger than the wall so i downsized it to fit on the wall. I then keyframed the general movement of the cat. 

Once i had finished with this, I deleted the maya wall and watched it through the camera, to make slight adjustments to keep the cat on top of the footage wall, as the maya wall wasn't a perfect match to the one in the footage. 

Once i was happy with the whole animation, i tried adding the x-gen fur back to the cat. This was a problem as the cat was now so much smaller than it was before. X-gen didn't make fur that small, so i could not longer have my cat be fury. This made me upset as i loved the way the cat looked fury. However i didn't have much of a choice. I rendered the finished sequence and the added it to Premiere pro. 

I wanted to try and add some thing similar to fur to the cat, in premire pro, I used an effect, to remove everything but the black colour, from animation, leaving me with just the cat. I then added the scatter effect to the cat, this made the cat look like it was made up off several dots, similar to the fur but not as good. I then added the original footage i filmed of the wall, under the cat. 

Once i had finshed everything visual I added sound to the video and exported it

Finished Cat:

[ohpuckthat]

(Wish I Didn't Have To) Lie... (Mat Barzal)

A/N Inspired by the song (Wish I Didn't Have To) Lie by Catie Turner. For some reason, I like writing sad imagines with Mat so here's another one. I did change the order of certain lyrics to fit a timeline a little better. Lyrics are in italics. Hope you enjoy

I don't hate you I just hate the way I miss you And I hate the way it hits me at night

Laying in bed, mascara running down my face. Only a week before, I rushed home from Mat's apartment where he had ended our relationship. He never gave me a reason why, just that he needed some time and space. What a bullshit reason. The worst part? I don't hate him. I hate that I miss him. I hate that it's the worst when I'm alone at night. Alone with my thoughts, he was the only one on my mind.

You ruined the J-Train You ruined Fleetwood for me too I only think about the good days Know it's cause I'm scared to let go of you

Our first date ended with us on the J-Train as he made sure I would get home safe. Mat had told me he could drive me home with ease but there was something about the subway that brought me peace. We sat together and listened to music sharing my earbuds. Songbird by Fleetwood Mac came on and I lit up.

"I've never heard this song before." He smiled, looking down at me.

"Really? Here..." I restarted the song, laying my head on his shoulder.

That song later became ours. Whenever it came on, either on the radio or our phones, we would drop whatever we had going on and slow dance together. We had joked about it becoming our first dance song but as we continued to date, it became less of a joke and more a reality.

You fucked up New Jersey You fucked up the way I see myself I don't think of how you hurt me But it hurt like hell

The first game of his I went to was against New Jersey. I had met Mat at the arena prior to the game to wish him good luck. He gave me my ticket, kissed my cheek and ran back into the arena. I walked around and grabbed some dinner. By the time I was done, it was nearly game time. I made my way back to the arena and found my seat. He had me sit front row on the opposite side of the bench. Every time he skated by during warm-up, he made sure to hop into the glass in front of me.

When everything was said and done, the game had gone extremely well for the Islanders, Mat in particular. Two goals and one assist were how he ended his night. There was a penalty thrown in there as well but we could ignore that. We met in the tunnel a while after, Mat pulling me into his hold as soon as he saw me.

"Great game bub!" I called, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Thanks, babe. Coach said that was my best game yet."

"Really? Cause it looked like you were just showing off." I winked, keeping my arms around his neck as he let me down, his hands still on my waist.

"Maybe a little. I had to do something great. Someone I love was in the crowd."

"Love?" I asked, taking a second to register what he had just said.

"Yeah, love. I love you."

"I love you too Mat."

You messed up late-night drives You messed up Target for me too I don't throw away our Polaroids I think it's 'cause I'm scared to tell the truth

It was a stressful day at work and all I wanted to do was go home, get something to drink and veg out on the couch with a mind-numbing show on in the background. As I started getting comfortable, my phone rang. I picked it up, seeing Mat's photo across the screen. I set my drink down before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe. Do you have any plans for the night?"

"Nothing that can't change. Did you have something in mind?" I asked, finally sitting up.

"I sure do." I could hear the shit-eating grin through the phone.

"Do I need to dress any particular way? Or are my leggings and your sweatshirt fancy enough?"

"That is perfect attire. I'll pick you up in 5."

"I'll see you soon." I smiled, laying back on the couch.

Mat showed up in 5 minutes just as he had said. Our first stop was Target. I sat in the cart as he pushed me around. We grabbed some snacks, some drinks, and a polaroid camera. The rest of the night, we drove around before finding a lookout. We got out and sat on the trunk of his car. We ate, drank and took pictures.

"You are the best," I whispered, laying on his chest.

"I know."

"And so humble."

"Obviously." He laughed, pulling me closer.

"And you have morning skate tomorrow. We should go soon love."

"Just a little longer."

We lay there for a few more minutes in silence. We finally separated and packed up. He drove me home with the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and his hand in mine. When we arrived at my place, he parked and turned to me.

"Do you want to spend the night?"

"I do have my hockey bag in the trunk." He smiled, leaning over the console, placing his lips on mine. "I'd love to."

It's always the littlest things Sweatshirts and video games You probably don't feel the same

Walking around my apartment, I finally had the courage to pack up all of his things and things that reminded me of him. I started in my room, packing up all his sweaters and sweatpants I had stolen. I then packed up all the polaroids I had hung on the wall. My next area of attack was the living room. I pack up the blanket he would always use and some of the video games he brought over. By the end, I closed everything and hid both boxes in the back of my closet. I fell back onto the couch and grabbed my phone, opening the text thread with Mat.

Me: I have some of your things if you want them back. I can leave them just outside the door if you want. Or you can get someone to get them for you. Whatever works best for you.

I knew Mat and the boys were in New York with a game the next day. What I didn't know was the proper way to handle something like this. No relationship I was in prior to Mat had passed a few months. Mat and I had been together for 5 years. I had no clue what the process for something like this was.

Mathew: I'm just about to head into practice. I can swing by afterwards. If you want to just leave it outside the door that works with me. I'll leave your box and text you afterwards.

Me: Sounds good. Have a good practice.

After I hit send, I threw my phone off to the side, hiding my face in my hands. Why did I say that? We weren't dating anymore. I didn't need to say things like "Have a good practice" anymore. He certainly didn't want to hear that from me. I sat in a state of embarrassment for a few hours when my phone pinged again.

Mathew: I'm on my way now.

I hopped up and walked over to the closet, taking the box out. I placed it just outside the door before returning to the couch. I wrapped myself in a blanket and turned on the tv. I left my phone facing up on the couch but turned up the volume as to not hear any footsteps in the hall. What it didn't cover up was the loud knock on the door. I turned the tv off and made my way over to open the door seeing Mat on the other side.

"Hey. I left the box just there." I said, looking to the side to see the box still there.

"I know. I just wanted to see you. And..." He said, kneeling to open the box and taking out my favourite sweatshirt of his. "To give you this. You wore it way more than I ever did."

"Mat..."

"Please? I'll just end up donating it anyway. You should keep it."

"Thanks."

"I'm sorry." He blurted out, looking down at the sweater in my hands.

"Don't be. You did what you knew was best."

"Thank you Y/N. I should go but I wish you the best."

"You too, Mat. Thank you, for everything." I smiled, feeling the tears well in my eyes.

"Is a hug too weird right now?" He laughed, his eyes glossing over as well.

"I don't think so," I whispered back, opening my arms.

He stepped closer, slowly wrapping his arms around my waist. I wrapped mine around his neck, quickly squeezing him, knowing it may be for the last time.

It means I'm still in denial It's a cycle Another year flies by It means that I'm still waiting for the day you show up at my door

A whole year had passed since the break-up and yet I was still waiting for Mat to come back. We had been together for 5 years and it wasn't easy to just let him go. I knew he had moved on by the excessive stalking I had done on his social media. Every time he posted a photo with a new girl, I would delete the app for the day and pretend he was still with me.

"No mom, I'm okay."

"Wendy called me. She said all you've been doing is going to work and then going straight home."

"Well, I don't know why Wendy called you. She barely talks to me anymore. Plus, I've had some pretty tight deadlines lately.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go out. You're still young. You should be having fun."

"I promise once everything at work is done, I'll go out and have a drink for you. Yeah?"

"I just want to make sure you're not working yourself into the ground. I know you don't want to hear this but there will be someone after Mat."

"I know mom. Thank you."

[nationalharryleague]

One Day

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 

***

Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.

But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.

“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.

“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.

But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.

He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.

“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.

You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.

This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.

Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.

“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.

“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.

“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“You were a comedian in a past life.”

“I agree.”

You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.

“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.

You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.

“Will you marry me?”

The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.

It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.

There was just too much you didn't know.

“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.

“I guess so,” he mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”

“One day.”

Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: The First Young Avenger —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

Words: 2,001

Warnings: Mild panic attack.

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

Listen to: ‘God Must Hate Me’ -by Catie Turner

x: Miss Stark Holds Herself Accountable.

"I don't know what to say. I'm disappointed. I'm upset."

"The parent speech doesn't suit you, Tony."

"Yeah well, the angsty teenage phase is widely overdone too," He said without looking at her. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't, I thought that was clear."

"This is my fault, Tony..." Happy started quietly.

"No, the things you said to me this morning aren't the reason why I decided to scramble that girl's brain," C.C. groaned, rubbing her forehead tiredly. "It was my choice. I wasn't hitting her that hard anyway! Mr. Harrington pulled me up before I could let go and the hair simply came off! I swear I wasn't trying to hurt her! I just wanted to scare her!"

"And why on earth were you trying in the first place?" Tony finally looked at her from the front seat, brows knitted together. "You get insulted once and that's enough for you to go feral? D'you think that's enough?"

"No!" She clenched her jaw. "I tried to talk things out, I really did, I kept my cool but then... she said I was a freak."

"And you really proved her wrong, didn't you?"

"Tony, she's had a hard day..."

"No, you don't understand," Tony pointed at her. "She's stronger than she looks and far more experienced than any kid her age— she should know better than to start fights with another student."

"I'm supposed to let them step all over me simply because I'm not like them?"

"You ignore them— they're fifteen! The most they can do is talk behind your back and I'm sure you've gone through worse—"

"I can't remember my 'worse', alright? And even if I did it doesn't mean I'm not allowed to be upset about someone making fun of me!"

"You're allowed to be upset, you're not allowed to sit on them and rip their hair off!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll have to inform Fury and Rogers about this."

C.C.'s chest tightened with fear, but she kept a careless attitude. "If you must."

"He might take you away, you won't go back to school."

"I'll survive," She retorted stubbornly.

Tony sighed heavily, Happy entered the garage and C.C. walked out of the car quickly, she rushed all the way up to her room, threw her backpack to a side, and started to pace.

It was too early to call Wanda and Pietro, they would be training or having lunch, and she didn't feel like being scolded by them either. Fury would show up soon for sure, and he would order her to pack her bags, he'd tell her that he was disappointed.

"I don't give a shit about all this," She huffed. "I wanna go."

She burst into tears.

The girl made her way to the bed, she tried to dry her face and control her sobs, but it was useless. C.C.'s hands went up and closed tightly around some locks of hair, she was sick of everything and everyone, now more than ever she wanted to disappear, it was too much, being human was hard, especially when she wasn't one entirely.

Someone knocked on the door, she was unable to yell at them to go away. C.C. wanted to be left alone, but above everything, she wanted to be listened to.

The door opened quietly, Tony's cologne made itself present and she groaned, turning to face the wall. The girl hugged her legs and leaned against her headboard.

"I thought you were done lecturing me," She sniffed. "I've had enough for one day, and you're not my actual guardian, so..."

"I'm not here to fight," He took off his sunglasses and leaned back against the headboard as well, legs hanging from the mattress. "What did they say to make you this angry?"

"Is not what they said," She mumbled. "Is how they acted when I confronted them. Like I was stupid, like I was the one who was wrong."

"In other words, you cornered them and they played dumb?" Tony asked. "Yeah, people don't like it when you call them out in public."

"I thought the least they could do was admit they'd been shitty. I would've moved on afterward, I'm not petty, I was willing to ignore everything if only they'd admitted that what they did was bad."

"Really?" He raised a brow. "That would've been way too kind, some other person would've dropped the friendship on the spot. I would've done it."

"Yeah, you're not the first one to tell me I'm too naive, but it's not that I'm kind, or forgiving... it's that... well, let's be honest, it's not like I deserve better, right?"

Tony straightened on his place. "Excuse me?"

"I'm an experiment," She laughed through her tears. "I'm lucky most of my features are human, that I can blend in with the rest effortlessly— but I'm not like them. When Fury found me I was like a stray cat, I had injured innocent people to get out of my enclosure... what I'm trying to say is that I'm not a real person, so I can't force them to treat me like one."

"Copycat..."

"No like, I see the other kids, and they wear all kinds of clothes but I can't— cause I'm scared it'll give me a panic attack if my blouse gets stuck on a door— and I rather drop dead than to have a mental breakdown in front of the others—"

"Kid—"

"And I don't like cutting my hair cause I have a big scar at the back of my head— and I can't remember how I got, or why, and I hate to think that they'll see it and think I'm even weirder. What did they do to me? W-what am I?"

She held her legs tighter, unaware of her claws.

"I'm a freak. Everyone else chose to become what they are... I didn't have a choice, and I'll always be an aberration—"

"Friday, activate lullaby protocol," Tony spoke up.

The window darkened for a brief second before projecting a forest scene, out of the speakers she could now hear birds singing, and the distant sound of running water. C.C. looked up and her mind stopped, she spoke in awe.

"What's this?"

"When I became Iron Man, life didn't get easier," He explained. "You're way younger than I was then, I thought you would need help at some point. You're a tough kid, but as soon as you started school I created this protocol."

"I would've killed to have this thing on for the past two weeks..."

"If you would've spoken to me, I would've told you sooner," He commented.

"Well, it's not like you're around that often, is it?"

"True," Tony looked ahead, sighing once more before standing. "I'll call Fury, and if you want you can go back to the Avengers facility with him, it's up to you. I don't think he'll try to take you away, I was lying."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're not used to cruel teens and it was only a matter of time before one of them pushed you over the edge."

"Fury will be disappointed."

"Maybe, but I'm the biggest disappointment in this team, Kit, that's a fact."

C.C. gave him a timid smile. "You're probably right."

"I'm always right," He told her. "Wash your face, otherwise your eyes will get all red and swollen and then you won't look human."

"Did you hold back when you hit her?"

"I barely slapped her— the hair incident only happened 'cause my hand got stuck. Didn't even use my claws."

"But you threw her to the ground and use your backpack to attack her."

"Yeah, but as soon as I realize what I was doing I just kept her on the ground, I would've dropped it had she apologized on the spot."

Fury stopped his pacing in the living room and stared at her.

"Are you proud of your actions?"

"No," She kept her gaze down. "I'm not an animal, I'm a person. In the future, I'll refrain from acting on a whim."

"My agents are allowed to make mistakes... but only once. Make an error like this again and I'll take you back to the facility, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The man watched her carefully.

"Agent," He gave a step forward. "You're certain you want to stay?"

C.C. looked up and smiled.

"It's either this or going back to the facility. At least here I've got things to do, back there... I'd be waiting around until the next mission."

He nodded, lowering his gaze. "I see you're wearing shoes now."

"They're not so bad," She moved her feet a little. "I had the wrong impression of 'em, thought they would slow me down, but I had no problem while I was kicking my classmate's ass."

Fury let out a puff of air that she would've sworn was a laugh.

"Midterms are coming," He started to walk away. "I expect you to get high marks—"

"Will I get a reward if I do?"

"How about gaining my trust back?" Fury offered. "Don't get cocky."

"They said what?"

"After you left, Lily heard your uncle as you were leaving, and apparently she heard him say you were on thin ice, that you'd be back behind bars or something—"

"So now they think the reason I left Mexico... is that I was in a juvy?"

MJ shrugged. "Told you they lost it."

C.C. laughed, Tony had said something like that, but he was talking about going back to the avengers facility, not jail!

"And they think I'm a wanted criminal or something?"

"They think you left the country to escape your record," MJ passed her the bag of chips. "Did you?"

"Oh yeah, I killed a bunch of people to get here," C.C. said. "That's not the reason why I got locked up, though."

"What's the reason?"

"I'm half alien and they wanted to run experiments on my body."

MJ snorted. "Awesome."

They sat at the first partially empty table they found, there was only one boy there, and he had his face so close to his phone he hadn't noticed them.

"Some of that is kinda true, though," C.C. sighed. "If I don't get good grades on my midterms I'm most likely going to get transferred to another school— or I'll be homeschooled until I'm twenty..."

"Were your parents pissed when they found out about the fight?"

"Mom was pretty pissed, but my dad was kinda expecting this to happen... I'm not grounded, though."

"Cool, then we can hang out after class, I have this movie I wanna show you..."

"Would love to, but I think I should focus on catching up with my studies first, I swear I can't remember half of what we see in class! I'm confident I'll pass most of them, but chemistry is kicking my ass..."

"Have you considered joining a study group?"

"Didn't you say everyone thinks I'm a wanted criminal?" C.C. said sarcastically. "Yeah, they're dying to have me around— bet they'll be making a line to tutor me."

"I can tutor you."

The girls looked at the source of the voice: Peter Parker was now seated next to the other boy, who was looking at him with wide eyes.

"Hi, Peter!" C.C. smiled. "Would you really? I should warn you that I'm really dumb—"

"You're not dumb," He said, now a bit shier than before. "I mean, I'm free to tutor you if you want, but I'm sure you could join a study group—"

"No, I think I rather study with you, if you have time," She said, moving her body so she could face him. "When can we start?"

The other boy aggressively whispered something to Peter, but the boy elbowed him and responded right away.

"Friday?"

"Friday's perfect," C.C. replied.

"You know Peter?" MJ questioned once they were out of the cafeteria.

"Not really, I helped him a few days ago," She replied. "This is just him helping me back."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​ @23victoria​​​​​@siriuslysirius1107​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​ @itsyagirl01​

[bun-ika]

As promised, another song inspired fic based on God Must Hate Me by Catie Turner.

Let me give my sweet boy Echo a hug.

Warnings: body dysmorphia, +++depression, self hatred, negative self image, suicidal thoughts, ideation, intention, self harm thoughts, death mentions, non concentual body modification, angst.

---

The Havoc Maurader continued on its set course while the Bad Batch's newest adoptee took his watch. Echo sat in the seat beside the one that usually held Tech, currently vacant. There was a strange stillness in the air as space flew past him. Echo knew better than to belive time was standing still, but as it was currently, he felt as if everything had slipped out from under him. If it were not for the chair under him, or the all to familiar ache of limbs and joints that were no longer, perhaps he would question his current existence all together.

Unfortunately, he was all to real in the frozen moment. Feeling numb with countless weighted thoughts and emotional baggage, Echo found himself struggling with feeling somewhere between completely numb and absolutely depressed. Golden eyes stayed focused on the stars out the window of the ship, willing himself to be somehow sucked from the cabins gravity and oxygen to join his fallen brothers among the stars that blinked before him now. They mocked him.

Somewhere deep in his body, his human heart twisted, and Echo felt ill at the feeling. This is what it felt like to be no one, he thought, staring at the stars that only offered an ignorant glitter in return to his thoughts. Sometimes, it took everything he had not to end up in this spiral of reality mixing with his own tortured thoughts. His time with the Techno Union did more than the physical mutilation of his body. More than taking away his humanity, Echo felt as though he had lost his soul itself, if he ever had one to begin with.

The cyclone that was Echo's thoughts ate away at him, nipping in all the wrong places, corroding metal and teasing phantom limbs that shouldn't ache as badly as they were. Somewhere out there, Echo thought at the stars hurtling past, the force, the maker, a God itself, must truly hate him.

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me"

'Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy

Got ample mental illness personality flaws

While their only flaw seems to be is that they have none at all

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me"

Fives would have known how to comfort his twin when the suppression became this deep, but beyond the grave, this was a hard ask. His brother no longer walked beside him as he did in life, and to be fair, Echo wasn't sure if he walked another path at all. A chill of anxiety coursed through his veins at the thought, making his blood feel cold. He hoped there was something out there. Something bigger and better worth all the pain of this life, their lives. But could clones go to such a place? They had specifically been designed for violence, predisposed to a lifetime of war and death. Numbers lablled the same face thousands of times. What deity would accept them, him, after all they had to do? What force of power allowed people to endure such trauma and pain? Though he wanted to belive in something for his brothers, and selfishly for himself, it was difficult.

During his time training, and later following the 501st on countless missions, Echo had encountered many beings. Individuals who swore they felt a change once swearing their lives to a God, insisting on a power greater than the universe itself, promoting ideas that wove tales that seemed like children's dreams, either too good to be true, or too bizarre and terrifying to unwrap all at once. Of course, there were the Jedi who overlooked training and command, even daily life during the war, regardless od location. Jedi Master Shaak Ti had been one of the first who taught Echo about the force, and answered many questions patiently as he and his brothers rambled about their own thoughts that had long stayed hidden under their own fear of growing up too fast, and donating themselves to a war they had no say in. Perhaps everything was controlled by fear and pain. That, was something Echo could belive.

He recalled his time at the Citadel, a flurry of memories that continued to haunt his psyche regardless how hard he tried to repress them. The recollection hit him with the force of a specialized racing speeder, and all too quickly the pieces of the present crumbled away and darkened eyes stared through the glass, unmoving as the memory overtook him.

Occasionally, the sedatives and tubes had to be changed, and new alterations made to his morphing body. It was during these times that Echo, stunned from his comatose state, regained some for of consciousness and began to scream. The first time it happened, he begged, downright prayed to his creator to make it all stop, to give him something for his excruciating pain, but the techno union were unwavering gods, and continued their sculpture. Eventually, he came to realize that he did not claim his body anymore, only his captors had that satisfaction.

Echo would never admit to prayer. Never let any of his brothers in on his secret mantras that sang through his teeth while his bones rattled during countless operations. Eventually it felt as if he were praying for another person, and not himself at all.

I'll let 'em take accountability

For everything that's wrong with me

Can't hold myself responsible

So I blame the metaphysical

If Jesus died for all our sins

He left one behind, the body I'm in

Same hands that made the moon and the stars

Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts

Obi Wan, Master Kenobi, talked so kindly about the force. His ex apprentice, his general, had picked up on his masters devotion, often wishing troopers the force to be with them and his vod during hard times. Where had it been during all the time he had spent trapped in a chamber, or strapped to operating tables? Maybe whatever cosmic force was out there had labeled him as a hopeless cause, and abandoned the assumed dececed trooper in his metallic grave.

I don't know what I believe

But it's easier to think

He made a mistake with me

Abandoned to durasteel limbs and invasive sensors that prodded into every last area of his being. If he wasn't soulless to begin with, he was sure they had altered it as well.

Blinking quickly as the flashback freed him from its grasp, Echo brought a pale palm to his face, wiping at the tears that threatened to fall. His scomp brushed against his cheek, the cold metal reminding him of who he was, or wasn't any longer. The new faces that surrounded him were not as difficult to face as the ones that were on Kamino. Though many clones had chosen tattoos and hair that went against the identical copies of brothers, it was difficult to not see Fives or himself in the faces of his unenhanced vode.

He knew life was not easy for the original members of the Batch. Hunter had told him little about growing up on Kamino, but it was enough to paint a dreary, painful picture. Though, there were still days Echo found himself getting caught up in mundane activity with his new family and becoming reminded of what he had lost. Tech's incredible intelligence that had not been clawed from the depths of his mind against his will, Hunter's unwavering solidarity to his brother's that remained by his side, Crosshair's quick wit and sharp shot reminding him of brothers in the past. It was Wrecker reminded him the most. Nearly always cheery and upbeat, ever joking and ready to go, as long as his brothers were with him. Strong and explosive, a giant spark of light in a twisted, deceitful world.

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, they got lucky"

the craftsmanship of their bones, their brain, and their body

When I look into the mirror for too long it hurts

they don't track how many steps it takes to burn off dessert

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, they got lucky"

He itched for his skin to cover the limbs that no longer attached to sockets. To struggle with maintaining curls that refused to lay flat. To go to a medic for a checkup when he needed to, as opposed to pulling out a toolbox each time something malfunctioned like repairing a Droid. Maybe he hadn't died, but something in him had. Or at least, the Echo that lived before whatever made up this body was comprised and brought to life.

It was a sick trap, locked away in a body that didn't feel like it belonged to him, in a changed world where his brothers were no longer.

I'll let 'em take accountability

For everything that's wrong with me

Can't hold myself responsible

So I'll blame the metaphysical

If Jesus died for all our sins

He left one behind, the body I'm in

Same hands that made the moon and the stars

Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts

Rex of course had been so happy to see him alive, but words whispered in the dark recesses of his mind... "what have they done to you?" What indeed. Echo ached for freedom, his flesh hand fidgeting with his false arm, letting fingers run down steel that didn't feel or provide warmth.

"Let me out." Three words that he had whispered countless times of the breath of a prayer, a plead for mercy, an absolute beg for something, anything else that didn't include him trapped in what wasn't his skin. Maybe it would have been better if Rex had made his peace with Echo's death. Perhaps dying would have been the humane thing to do.

I don't know what I believe

But it's easier to think

He made a mistake with me

Would he be so lucky? It wouldn't be difficult to manage, that he knew. Eyes met the stars once more as he looked up from where his eyes had been glued to the control panels in front of him. He wasn't sure when he had stopped his searing gaze out the window, or how much time had passed since he had been observing his watch. Glancing at the numbers reading neon on a screen, Echo let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 02:56. It would be all too easy to make that dark, horrific part of his mind pleased. He brought his focus back out the glass as he contemplated the next move. Weapons were everywhere on the Maurader; behind every nook and cranny a blaster, viroblade, or even a rogue explosive could be found. The others would not wake for a while yet, Crosshair would take the next watch at 0500, already being an early riser. He wouldn't think too much of Echo not being in his chair to greet him, assuming he left momentarily and then retired for a few hours of rest after seeing the sniper overtaking his position.

Unease fluttered through his chest as he let his arms rest at his sides, fingers brushing a blaster strapped to his leg that had been neglected to be returned to its place.

Drawing the weapon from its nest, Echo brought it to his front, staring at the item as if it was the first time he had seen such a thing. The black metal returned his observation with silent, dull, expressionless invitation. His thumb smoothed over the cool metal as his hand grasped the handle , finger resting against the trigger that had been pushed countless times on those unfortunate enough to be in front of his line of fire. The man behind the blaster yerned for a taste of what came next. What those who fell found out, or didn't.

Turning the blaster towards himself, his eyes followed the muzzle of the gun as it stared into his face. Feeling almost trance like, Echo looked down the barrel of his blaster for a long minute as the feeling of numbing depression washed over his body, engulfing his being whole. There was only one way this would end. One way to truly make the multitude of pains stop for good.

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me"

'Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy

Pausing momentarily, Echo closed his eyes and took a breath as the cool barrel rested against his temple, beginning to count backwards. Three... two... on-

"Echo."

A quiet voice, nearly a whisper cut through his monolog. Keeping his eyes closed, he let out an unsteady breath as a firm, but soft and met his shoulder while another gently pried his fingers from the blasters handle that had grown warm under his touch.

Letting his hand fall to his lap, Echo slumped forwards with the smaller strangle of a cry, putting his forehead into the palm of his flesh hand as his shoulders began to shake.

Hunter stood above his brother, keeping his hand on Echo's back as he slid it across his shoulders while the other returned the blaster to an empty holder on the sargent's person.

Words didn't have to be exchanged just yet as Echo fell apart, crumbling in on himself as Hunter remained quietly by his side, occasionally giving his shoulder a squeeze as if to remind him that someone was there when he was ready. Sometime after, Tech approached the deck, observing the situation silently before turning back the way he came, only to returning with Crosshair quickly on his heels, and Wrecker tugging along Lula, who was gently placed between Echo's arms. Each brother took a side as they collectively huddled around their vod, silently coming together in solidarity, knowing Echo needed them now more than ever.

Whatever was out there may have forgotten him, but his brothers never did.

[backwardscapsmh]

warning! this deals with themes of religious guilt (specifically of the catholic/christian variety), internalized homophobia, and self hatred so if that is triggering for you please do not read this. like/reblogs and constructive criticism are appreciated.

god must hate me by catie turner

Whiskey came to Samwell with a litany of memorized Our Father’s and half-hearted rattling offs of the rosary. He didn’t actually believe in the things he was saying, so why would it affect him? The stuffy pastor’s words raced through his head, not even stopping by his brain to be absorbed. He’s not religious, so the concept of God didn’t bother him, not in the slightest.

Except, sometimes, when it was late at night, he would think. He would remember Sunday School. Head flooded by memories of small squeaking chairs, the half-finished Jesus coloring pages, and the VeggieTales episodes. He remembers the lessons well, as much as he wishes he didn’t. They stick in his head, stuck like that adhesive residue you can never quite get off of book jackets. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

I'll let them take accountability

For everything that's wrong with me

Early Sunday mornings spent learning how to fit the perfect mold this institution seemed to expect of him. He remembers being nine, hearing how many things will get you sent to hell. He doesn’t want to go to hell. It sounds scary, and from what he’s gleaned, it’s really hot down there. You can’t play hockey in a firey pit. It wasn’t until he grew up that he realized how much of that checklist of bad traits actually applied to him.

Can't hold myself responsible

So I blame the metaphysical

It’s hard to reconcile now: if God made everyone exactly how they should, why is the way that he is so wrong? He felt it back then especially. The shiny stain-glass saint judging him from their place of honor along the walls. He could feel the scorn of their stares, eyes blank as the painted pupils burned right to the center of his soul. How they knew all his secrets, he’ll never know.

If Jesus died for all our sins

He left one behind the body I'm in

Why does he feel like he’s always too much or too little for any situation? He’s too judgmental. He’s not always the most respectful. He probably cares too much about his looks, as much as he tells himself he doesn’t. And he’s…he’s that word that no one ever said, but implied anyways: gay.

Most days, he’s able to push it from his mind. He can ignore how he constantly feels like he’s being watched. How he can never truly relax within himself, always worried about saying the wrong thing, doing something bad. He always feels like he’s not enough, like he’s somehow letting someone important down because he can’t be perfect all the time.

Same hands that made the moon and the stars

Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts

And on some really late nights, he wishes he were different. He wishes that he’d stop feeling that dark pit of worry and anxiety and fear about everything. Wishes he'd stop feeling like he’s missing a few crucial pieces. Instead of what he needed, God shackled him with these unnatural feelings, a one way ticket to ostracism.

I don't know what I believe

But it's easier to think

He made a mistake with me

And he knows God’s creation is perfect, but if that’s true, why is he the way that he is?

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Bakugou and the reader are best friends --that he refuses to admit he's in love with-- but when it comes to other dudes, he acts like their guard dog. He overhears some jerks laughing about it calling the reader names and saying he could have anyone else in his class and goes off. The reader catches him fighting and stops it wondering what got into him but he refuses to tell them

2 things before we start

1. I'm gonna start doing tagging, so comment if you want to be tagged on the next posts. Starting out with 10 tags.

2. I listened to the song home by Catie Turner while I was writing this bc I wanted to be in my feels. So put that song on repeat while you read it.

Bakugou Katsuki honestly had no intentions of falling in love. He didn't have intentions of being friends with anyone really. Obviously Kirishima changed that- with the Bakusquad. But with you he fell deeper than he meant to with friends.

But Bakugou Katsuki was in deep. He was in so deep. And he fucking hated it but he wouldn't change it for the damn world.

Bakugou Katsuki, could not see himself with anyone but you. He's in full denial about it, of course. He could have any girl in the class, school even. Girls doted on him. His first year not so much, but after valentines day during his second year, he noticed (you did too) that women flocked to him. Some of them were cute, he'd admit, but if he tried to picture himself with any of them he felt weird. Sick almost. He figured it was just because he didnt know them- or he didnt want a relationship at the moment. But then came the fatal mistake.

You'd made him lunch, his favorite to be exact. You made him snacks every once in a while but this was new. You gave it to him, telling him it was extra from your lunch and walked away. He smiled to himself at the thought of making lunch for him, because you wanted to, not because it was extra- and that's when it happened. He thought of himself with you. This time he didnt feel weird, he didn't feel sick, he felt content, happy.

He ate his lunch that day in silence, away from the rest of his friends, hidden in the 1-A classroom. Aizawa didn't question it.

He tells his mom and his mom only. He'd be damned if shitty hair found out. He'd be even more damned if Mina or Kaminari found out because the two couldn't keep their mouths shut for the life of them.

"Katsuki you have a crush."

"Great, how do I get rid of it?"

"You don't? Katsuki have you never had a crush before?"

"Absolutely not."

"Wow, i just assumed you'd kept them from me and your father like every other teen."

"No I just don't have feelings, hag."

For the next half hour, he and his mother discuss what he could do. If he would do anything.

"Does she like you back?"

"How the fuck would I know?"

"Has she done anything out of the ordinary?"

"I mean she made lunch for me yesterday."

"Wow shes literally in love with you."

"Shut UP."

"Katsu, why dont you try making a move? They flirting?"

"Because she doesn't like me and I don't feel like dealing with rejection."

His mother sighed.

He went to school the next day, unsure of how to proceed when he spoke to you. How would it go down in the dorms? Theoretically he could just deny any attraction to you and be on his way- but he didnt want to loose you. He didn't want you out of his life, he knew that much. So he settled for just treating you as he always had.

However, when it came to other boys- he was on top of it. Just because he woukdnt make a move on you, didnt mean he'd let the greasy boys that flocked you. You deserved better than them. You knew it too. You were quietly thankful for his protection against unwanted attention from the boys.

He could pick up your signs of gratitude and he had no intention to stop. Especially when he heard guys talking, about you specifically.

Just listening to the words that oozed put of his mouth about you pissed him off.

"I could have any girl in the school." The boy scoffed. "Especially her- god I bet she's really fucking easy. She's never had a boyfriend and based on her personality it wouldn't be hard to hit it and leave-"

Katsuki had never swung on someone so quick in his life. His body acted before he could even think. Asshole boy stumbled back a little before lunging for Katsuki, grabbing his shirt and throwing his bodyweight on him to push him back. However- it wasn't really a match for him. A kid from the business class against Katsuki bakugou- part of the great three? No.

He refrained from using his quirk, knowing this- you'd rubbed off on him more than he cared to admit. But that didn't stop his fist from coming down on his face.

"Don't you DARE talk about her like that- she's not a fuckin object for your enjoyment you asshole-" He growled, his fist making contact with his face again.

"Katsu!" A voice yelled before he was being pulled off. A gentle hand cupped his cheek and turned his head. You. He saw you- through the red there was you. "What are you doing?" You ask softly- bowing slightly in apology before dragging him off.

He didn't say anything as he was lead down the hallway. That guy deserved what happened. He deserved every second of it.

"Katsu? Katsu- are you listening?"

"Hm?"

"I was asking if you were okay. Your cheek is bruised." You stopped, gently touching his cheek.

You were always concerned with his wellbeing. How he was- before anything you made sure he was okay. Regardless of the circumstances- before he was scolded or cursed out, you made sure he was okay. Physically and mentally.

"'M fine." He mumbled, looking down. "M okay."

You nodded, leading him down the hallway once more- walking into the dorm. You grabbed something from the kitchen and then lead him to your room, having him sit on the bed.

"Katsu, what happened?" You mumbled, sitting next to him and pressing and ice pack (wrapped in a thin shirt) to his cheek. He struggled to not lean into it.

In all honesty, all he wanted to do what high you. He had this overwhelming feeling to hold you, bury his face in your neck and just stay there.

"Nothing. Just a brawl." He muttered, unmoving '

"A brawl? Really."

"Yeah. A brawl."

"Well something started 'your brawl'. You gonna tell me what it was?"

"I'm telling you it was nothing. Don't worry about it." He couldn't tell you- he didn't want you to feel weird or self concious. He knew how words from people affected you, even though you fought on and on to ignore them and keep them from affecting you. There was too much going on in your head to completely ignore them, even subconsciously.

"It is something though! Because you're hurt. That other guy, a douche bag I'm sure, is hurt."

"He deserved it."

"Why?"

"Why are you so concerned with it."

"Because you're hurt! I know it's not very hero like- but I couldnt care less about his injuries. You are my priority. And I walk into you in a beatdown-"

Katsuki pushed the ice pack away from his cheek. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. He wasn't expecting much after that- so when your hand came to play with his hair and the other holding his back, he felt like he was going to cry.

God he was so fucking in love with you. It made him want to scream- why would you ever want to he with him? Why were you doing this?

"I just want to make sure you're okay." She whispered.

"M okay. You don't have to worry about me."

"Doesn't mean I won't. I always worry about you Suki. I don't think that's going to stop." You continued threading your fingers through his hair.

"Then I'll be here, to remind your dumbass I'm okay."

"I know you will." You whispered. "Katsu, look at me." You mumbled- voice unsteady. He frowned and slowly lifted his head up. You were looking at him with such intensity in your eyes, he was unsure why.

You leanws forward, gently pressing your lips to his- ah that's why. He was surprised for a moment- stilling unmoving. You pulled away.

"Sorry- I guess that was uncalled-" he wouldnt let you finish, his lips were back on yours, pulling you close. You leaned into him, eye closed, guard down. Just you and him.

"I can't see myself with anyone but you." He grumbled, when he finally pulled away, lips inches apart. "I never have been able to."

"Good." You smiled softly. "I don't want you with anyone else."

@kirahhhh

[mysticmeadowscamp]

Okay, so I'm currently going through a minor identity crisis, and I feel like projecting. I'm aware none of this is Canon, but I just wanna get it out there.

So, Roman (In the timeskip) is just kinda scrolling online when he comes across a name he really likes. Obviously he already has a name, so he dismisses it as a simple "hey that's cool" and goes on his way. But from then on, the name nags at him, and he just cannot shake it. But he knows he already has a name, and you can't have more than one name, unless of course you're genderfluid/flux/etc. So he just kinda sits with it for a while until it's gotten to a point where he, very embarrassedly, texts the groupchat like "hey.. would it be possible to have two separate names when you don't have a fluctuating gender?" And then idk what happens next bc that's where I am rn, so the saga continues i suppose.

I apologize for inadvertently venting in your inbox, feel free to ignore

Buddy you can definitely have more than one name its ok i promise mwah

ok listen

my birthname is Catalina. I never liked that name, i actually still dont, but oh well. Many people always called me Cata as a nickname (some still do, actually) and it was better, but i was still eeh about it. So i asked my closest friends to call me Caty, and they happily accepted.

But then i didnt felt as comfortable with Caty anymore. Because i felt different, so i very shyly asked my friends to call me Elliot sometimes, Caty was still there. But now so was Elliot

then on sophomore year i had panic attacks almost every week, and one day i just couldnt take it anymore and told my friends i was trans. But Elliot didnt feel like me anymore, so after that i once again asked my friends to call me Danny.

And that name sticks until today, but heres a thing, on senior year i started thinking about my identity again, and after like half a year i found out i identify as non binary, but hold up, i was still Danny. i liked Danny. so it stuck.

but then i heard an old name that ive always liked but never used because I THOUGHT it sounded girly and i identified as a trans guy back then: Vivian. And i always like the nickname Vi/Vee. So my best friend, and some other close friends online, started to call me that sometimes without me asking. And it felt good!

And a few time ago, thanks to my best friend mentioned before, i started going by Hay as well. And i really, really like it

So, I had Cata, Caty, Elliot, Danny, Vivian, and Hay

and i go by Cata, Danny, and Hay

If it feels okay with you, go for it. Dont worry about it fading away in the future. It doesnt make you weird, it doesnt make you a faker. Its just what feels right at the moment. and thats ok.

[astrariumofficial]

Have a two-part playlist made up for Ari as a treat.

Starlight

Rainbow Connection by No Big Deal ("And have you heard voices / I've heard them calling my name / Is this the sweet sound that call's the young sailors / The voice might be one and the same /I've heard it too many times to ignore it / It's something that I'm supposed to be.") // Go The Distance by Peyton Parrish ("Like a shooting star, I will go the distance / I will search the world, I will face its harms I don't care how far, I can go the distance /'Til I find my hero's welcome waitin' in your arms.") // Crystals by Of Monsters and Men (“Cover your crystal eyes/And feel the tones that tremble down your spine.”) // Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine ("Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back /Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that.") // Brighter by Against the Current (“I want something more, a life worth fighting for/I don’t need a reason to set the world on fire/And burn a little brighter now.”) // Eyes Are Open by Sainte ("I just can't shake the feeling / That we all need a purpose / If we can start believing / Who cares what they say we are?") // Masayume Chasing by AmaLee ("And I'll keep chasing, chasing / My dream 'til I'm sure / It's burning through my soul / A light shining brighter than gold.") // Artemis by Lindsey Stirling.

Moonbeam

World's Smallest Violin by AJR ("Somewhere in the universe / Somewhere someone's got it worse / Wish that made it easier / Wish I didn't feel the hurt.") // To The Stars by Randy Edelman. // Moon River by Au/Ra ("Moon river, wider than a mile / I'm crossing you in style, someday.") // rises the moon by Liana Flores ("Days pull you up just like a daffodil / Uprooted from its garden / They'll tell you what you owe, but know even so / Rises the moon.") // Haunted Laura Les ("Yeah, do you think it's cute that I'm so fucking stupid? / Tell me that it is, 'cause I'm tired of being useless.") // God Must Hate Me by Catie Turner ("Same hands that made the moon and the stars / Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts / I don't know what I believe / But it's easier to think / He made a mistake with me.") //

[ricksbowen]

simply, utterly | pt. 4

IN WHICH: ricky makes your homecoming a whole lot better than you’d like to admit.

INSPIRATION: fair-weather friend — bruno major, prom queen — catie turner

A/N: i really suggest listening to fair-weather friend while reading this. i’m casting harrison osterfield as the harrison in my story because i love him, thanks

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7

“So that’s it?”

“Apparently,” Ricky groaned, hugging his pillow as he explained his situation to Big Red for what felt like the 5th time. He had explained everything, from the moment the both of you shared while singing to your words after both of you kissed. The redhead’s brows were furrowed in thought and his eyes were staring into blank space. He was thinking; that was never good. “Big Red?”

Big Red shushed him, murmuring, “I’m thinking.” A few more seconds of silence followed until the trance Big Red was in broke. “Yeah, I got nothing. You’re fucked, man.”

“I know!” Ricky stuffed his face into his pillow, letting out a muffled scream while Big Red patted his back. “Why do I like her?”

“That’s what I was thinking about. I thought you hated her, Ricky.”

“I thought so too!” Ricky yelled, his voice quieted by the pillow in his face. Big Red patted his back sympathetically, shaking his head to himself until an idea popped into his head. Immediately, he started hitting Ricky, a smile growing on his face while Ricky only winced at his hits.

“Hey— Red!” Ricky groaned, rubbing the area where Big Red hit him while Big Red ignored his complaints.

“Dude. Homecoming is coming up,” Big red exclaimed, eyes looking at Ricky expectedly. He expected a reaction to come out of him, a sudden realization at what Big Red was trying to imply, only to find nothing.

“Okay. So what?”

“So, you idiot,” Big Red drawled out, rolling his eyes at how oblivious Ricky could be. Did he really have to explain his genius plan? “You take her! Ask her out!” The encouraging grin on his face grew with each word he spoke.

“You’re aware that she wants nothing to do with me,” Ricky deadpanned, raising a brow at Big Red.

Big Red waved his worries away with his hand, blowing a small raspberry as he did. “Just ask her out! What do you have to lose?” Big Red asked, raising his eyebrows at Ricky as if he was challenging him to answer. Ricky already had an answer.

“My dignity.”

—

“Hey, Y/N.”

You turned to look over your locker, the cold look you had kept on throughout that day softening at the sight of Harrison, one of your classmates. You had him in your chemistry class in your sophomore year, when he nearly blew up your lab station because he added too much of one chemical. While Harrison began freaking out, you were practically crying from laughing— who would’ve thought that one of the jocks would react so badly?

“Sorry— I thought you were someone else,” you said apologetically, turning back to the things in your locker. Ever since the day you and Ricky made out, you had been avoiding him like the plague. While you usually went out of your way to mess up his hair or make fun of him, you found yourself making various turns in the halls just to try and avoid Ricky. You saw him try and reach you every time he saw you, yet you always got away.

You didn’t want to speak about feelings— especially when it came to Ricky. In a way, it terrified you to think of him in that way despite your want to think of him as anything other than an enemy. But you didn’t want to make things complicated; the deal was to return to your normal relationship after the musical. Nothing more, nothing less.

Life had been getting in your way too. Ej’s break up with Nini was unexpected, to say the least, and you found yourself sneaking into his room at night to comfort him and allow him to rant to you ( while you subtly called him stupid since you were the more honest sibling ). You had to be there for him.

You looked at Harrison from the corner of your eye, seeing the evident nerves that were coursing through his veins. Grabbing your things and slamming your locker shut, you looked at the boy up and down before speaking. “You’re nervous,” you stated blatantly, watching his eyes widen at your honesty. “What happened?”

“I wanted to ask you a question,” Harrison said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his ( cliche ) letterman jacket.

From across the hall, Big Red patted Ricky on the back and shook him gently. “All you gotta do is ask her to homecoming. It’s simple, alright?” Big Red clapped him on the shoulder, trying to get him hyped up and less nervous. “Nothing to lose other than your dignity, buddy. I believe in you.”

“I can’t go right now,” Ricky protested, turning his head to look at Big Red. “She’s talking to someone— Is that Harrison Dupont?”

“The dude that looked like he fell out of a bad high school movie? The blonde one?” Big Red squinted at you and Adrien, eyebrows raising when he saw you nod and smile brightly at the jock. “Since when did she know him? I swear he’s always reminded me of Harry Osborn,” Big Red muttered to himself, watching as you laughed at a joke ( that probably wasn’t funny— Ricky was funnier ) he told you. You then leaned up on your tip-toes and kissed the blonde on the cheek, a subtle smirk making its way onto your lips. “Oh, shit.”

Hopefully Ricky didn’t see that.

Ricky definitely did.

He felt his heart sink when he saw the action, any small chance he had with you going down to the negatives as his shoulders slumped. Of course, you were serious about what you said after you kissed— you had always been the no-bullshit type. But some childish part of Ricky thought that you were joking, that you realized that you wanted him in the same way he wanted you.

He had to stop watching so many rom-coms.

“It’s okay, man,” Big Red mumbled, patting Ricky’s shoulder while Ricky nodded his head.

“You know what? You’re right. It’s fine,” Ricky said, as if he was convincing himself that it was okay when it reality it wasn’t. How could he think that he even had any chance with you? “I’ll just bring you to homecoming. It is your first dance.” Ricky forced a grin, bumping Big Red gently and ignoring the protests he tried to utter.

You had been enemies from the start— he shouldn’t be feeling like this. Might as well take his mind off of you.

—

“You’re going with Gina? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Says the person who said that she’s going with Harrison Dupont,” Ej deadpanned, fixing his tie in the mirror. He stood next to where you sat, your makeup strewn all over your table as you tried to put your makeup on. “You know that he’s a total di—“

His words were interrupted by Ashlyn, who was supposed to help you with your makeup ( until she gave up ). “Isn’t he that one jock? The guy that’s kinda like Harry Osborn?” Ashlyn asked from your bed, not looking up from her phone as she tried to find your homecoming date on Instagram. It only took her a few minutes, and for his page was the first that popped up. “No way do you know him,” she stated, glancing at you with raised brows.

“Is it really that hard to believe?” you asked, turning to look between Ashlyn and Ej. Both of them gave you nods in response, making you groan and turn back to your mirror.

Your hair was held up with a few white clips, a simple hairstyle that fit your dress: a rose red, a-line, spaghetti strapped dress that went above your knees. Your make up was simple, yet pulled your whole look together with rose red lipstick. Frankly, you thought you looked hot ( and you did ).

“All we’re saying is that it’s a surprise. You can barely exist next to most of the guys on my team without telling them to ‘fuck off.’” Ej gave you a pointed look through the mirror, his face softening when the sudden realization that you were growing hitting him at that moment. He felt like such an older brother as he watched you get yourself ready; you grew up so fast.

“You’re not one to talk; you’re going with Gina!” Ashlyn said, giving Ej a look. “Since when did that happen?”

“Just— Outta nowhere,” Ej mumbled, avoiding Ashlyn’s eyes as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had to be hiding something - he was avoiding the questions you and Ashlyn were throwing at him. “Can you do my tie? It’s just,” Ej sighed, his tie coming loose in his hands as he tried to fix it. “Not working.”

You tutted him teasingly, standing up to fix his tie. “East High’s own senior class treasurer can’t even tie a tie,” you tsked, grinning at him and laughing when he rolled his eyes. “I’ll add that onto the list of things I know that you don’t.”

“Must be a short list.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you laughed, Ashlyn and Ej letting out their own laughs at your words. You walked to your window, picking up the purse you planned to bring ( you really had nothing in it other than chapstick and mints ). Your eyes trailed up to the view from your window, immediately landing on Ricky’s dark window. Maybe he wasn’t going to homecoming. You didn’t know whether you felt relieved or disappointed.

But it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to homecoming with Ricky.

—

Ricky saw you walk in.

You were behind Gina Porter and your brother, and while you were usually the epitome of bluntness and independence, you almost looked shy walking into homecoming. Your eyes were searching for someone — Harrison, most likely — but instead of finding the tall jock, your eyes met his.

Of course, he had to sit at a table close to the entrance.

You played it off, rose-colored lips tilting up into a smirk that Ricky didn’t respond to. He was gaping at you, not-so-subtly admiring you to the point where Big Red nudged him.

“You’re drooling,” Big Red muttered, a teasing tone behind his voice while Ricky quickly averted his eyes from you. He saw you walk away from the corner of his eye, the breath he didn’t know he was holding escaping him. Ricky put his head in his hands, trying not to let out a yell. 

“She’s trying to kill me, I swear.”

The night went on. You sat alone, eyes on your phone as you tried to ignore the nagging feeling in your stomach.

“You too?” The familiar voice made you look up from your phone, a tight-lipped smile appearing on your face at the sight of an obviously heartbroken Carlos. You knew how he was feeling.

“Yeah. Where’s Seb?” you asked, watching as Carlos shrugged and picked at his nails. You knew they were going to homecoming together ( you called it from the start ), but seeing Carlos without Seb was odd. Seb wouldn’t stand up Carlos, would he?

“Not sure. I texted and called him.” Carlos sighed, the hurt evident in his face. He leaned forward in his chair, shifting his attention onto you. “How about you, Y/N? I can’t really imagine anyone wanting to stand you up.”

“Harrison Dupont,” you grumbled, listening to Carlos suck in a breath. Now you know why people reacted that way when you told them your date. Your eyes looked back at the entrance for what seemed like the hundredth time, the little amount of hope you had that Harrison would show up replaced with hope for someone else. “Carlos,” you said, a smile on your face as you nodded at Seb, standing at the entrance.

Without a word, Carlos stood up from his spot, walking to Seb and exchanging a few heartfelt words with him. You saw a smile creep up onto Carlos’ face, and you sighed in relief when they made their way to the dance floor ( of course ).

You wanted what they had, but Harrison wasn’t here. You continued to watch the crowd, a chuckle rumbling in your chest at Ricky and Big Red’s slow dancing and a hint of a smile tugging at the side of your lips at the sight of Ej and Gina dancing. But as your eyes wandered, it led you to an image that you didn’t want to see.

Harrison Dupont kissing another girl, his arms wrapped around her as they danced to the music.

You wanted to throw up.

You listened to the song end, sending a quick text to Ej about walking home as you grabbed your purse. You stood up from your chair, ignoring the stupid lump forming in your throat as you made your way to the entrance as quickly as you could.

“See? I told you it wasn’t that bad. The next dance you need to go to—“

“Ricky.” Big Red interrupted him, nodding in your direction as you made your way outside. He had just finished slow dancing with Ricky, ignoring the stares from the others around them. Ricky had nearly made him fall over his own feet while they danced, and Big Red almost body-slammed him into 5 couples when he twirled him. They were a mess, but it was fun.

Ricky shook his head stubbornly, shoving off the want to go follow you as he looked at Big Red. “No. I promised you a good time—“

“And you gave me one. Check up on her, man, I’ll be fine.” Big Red smiled encouragingly, motioning with his hands towards the direction you had gone.

With a grin that screamed, ‘thank you,’ Ricky ran out, head turning to look for you.

He didn’t find you until he saw you on one of the courtyard benches. Hanging lights were wrapped around the few trees, yet no one was around to see just how pretty it was. But you were there, head in your hands as you tried to get the image of your date and another girl out of your mind. You were shaking, and it didn’t take much to know that you were crying.

You never cried.

You were either going to punch him or say a comment to dodge his questions.

You felt someone sit next to you, and you immediately wiped the tears from your cheeks as you looked at who was sitting next to you. There he was: Ricky Bowen, pretending it was a coincidence that he found you outside and sat next to you on the same bench.

You sniffed. “If you’re here to throw me a pity party,” you said, voice hoarse from your crying. “Just go back inside.” Your voice cracked at the end of your sentence, more tears rolling down your face. You avoided looking at him, your eyes set on the concrete ground.

“I just thought you needed some company,” Ricky replied, listening to you scoff.

“I don’t need company. Especially from you,” you grumbled, wiping underneath your eyes and sniffing. You didn’t want him to see you like this; the oh-so-strong Caswell sibling, crying over a jock as if she had fallen out of a high school movie.

Ricky ignored the hurt your words brought him, simply choosing to nod his head. “You don’t have to talk to me,” he offered, looking up at the hanging lights. “We can just.. sit here. You can cry, I can just look at the lights.”

You raised your head from your hands, placing your chin on the palms of your hands as you let out heavy breaths. Silence followed Ricky’s words, the only sound being your sniffles and the faint bass from the dance.

“He was with someone else. He was kissing and dancing with her,” you spat, spite and hurt hidden deep within your words.

The sudden want to confess everything that had happened to him was too strong, your emotions controlling you as you stared blankly ahead of you. “I should’ve expected it,” you wiped the mascara from under your eyes. You chuckled humorlessly to yourself, shaking your head. “You probably think I’m stupid.”

“There’s nothing stupid in believing in someone,” Ricky murmured in response.

“I thought for sure that you’d come out here to make fun of me,” you murmured. “Especially since.. you know..” you trailed off, hoping that he knew that you were talking about the kiss the both of you shared.

“I don’t hate you as much as you think I do, Y/N,” Ricky said softly, his tone sincere as he looked at you. Your eyes were downcast, a useless way of avoiding his eyes like the plague. You felt guilty for pushing him out, for being too caught up in thinking about what you felt that you didn’t think about what you were doing to him. A small part of you wanted to go back to how they once were: arguing in classes and pissing each other off.

A huge part of you wanted to have your hands intertwined with his.

You looked at him with eyes glassy with tears, the faintest of smiles on your face. You had to have looked like a mess with your messy makeup and smudged mascara. But to Ricky, he had never seen you look so pretty.

“Do you want to dance?” Ricky asked, the idea leaving his mouth before he could catch it. He gauged your reaction, watching as you cocked a brow at him as if to silently ask, ‘are you serious?’ “It’s homecoming,” Ricky explained blatantly, shrugging his shoulders. “You deserve to have at least one dance.”

“What if someone sees us?” you asked hesitantly, watching Ricky stand up and take out his phone. He scrolled for a few seconds before choosing a song. ‘Fair-Weather Friend’ by Bruno Major began to play, and he offered his hand out to you.

“Then let them,” he said, and a smile lit up your face at his response. You took his hand, standing up and placing your arms around his neck.

You felt his hands hold your waist, his touch gentle as you both began to sway to the music. “I don’t know how to slow dance,” you confessed quietly, making sure you didn’t step on his toes as you both danced to the beat.

“Just follow my lead.” The chorus came around, and Ricky twirled you, your dress floating up at the move before settling back down. He pulled you flush to his chest, humming the song softly to you as you followed his movements.

Once the chorus came once again, a laugh left your lips as you tried to twirl him around. “Nice moves, Bowen,” you remarked, your comment lighthearted and making him laugh.

“I try.”

You both danced as if you had known each other for forever ( in a way, it was true ). Each small step and each small sway was performed as if you had been dancing with each other for years rather than playing a teasing game of cat and mouse.

You could tell the song was coming to an end. Your head was on his chest, your sadness gone and replaced with content. Quietly, and almost shyly, you mumbled, “Thank you for making this night so much better.”

Ricky could feel his heart pick up. He knew he was in too deep.

“Anytime, Y/N.”

—

TAGS:  @softpeteparker, @jointherebellion215, @l-tt-e, @broken-from-fandoms, @uwupxterparker, @room-3o4​, @eternaleviee​, @hobistigma​, @fangeekkk​, @wcnderwoo​, @myrandom-fandomlife​, @multifangorl​, @tomshufflepuff, @ggclarissa​, @decaffeinated-fangirl​, @religious-pizza-roll​, @rororo06​, @svelby-g​, @sarcarstic-space-weirdo​, @whoseblogsthis​, @hxney-bunches-x​

[maybuds]

tagged by @iriseslonging. thank you, julianne! really love your list ♥️

tagging @vecelle @fuinle @the2headedcalf @northstargrassmaiden @boykeats @poetrylesbian @softcurrentsmp3 ☺️ only if you want to do it, otherwise just ignore

list 3-5 snippets of literature/media that live in your head rent-free to the point where you have them memorized; write them down from memory, no cheating allowed

this is really long. i am a nerd. i’m sorry guys, you don’t have to read it. believe it or not, i only put down three “snippets.”

1. “It’s not enough to say the heart wants what it wants. I think of the ravine, the sides dark with pines as we lounged through summer days, waiting for something to happen. And of the nights, walking the long way home, the stars so close they seemed to crown us. Once, I asked you your favorite feeling. You said hunger. It felt true then. [...] From that moment, I told myself, it was the not yet that I wanted, the moving, the toward— [...] What I want is what I’ve always wanted: what I want is to be changed. [...] Which is to say, mi corazón, drink up the sunlight you can, and stop feeding the good fruit to the goat. Tell me you believe that the world is made of more than all its stupid, stubborn, small refusals, that anything, everything is still possible. I wait for word here, where the snow is falling, the solitaires are calling, and I am, as always, your M.” (Mary Szybist, from “To Gabriela at the Donkey Sanctuary”; I copied this down on one of my old journals back in college and used to read it out loud over and over)

2. “III. THE ESSAY

It is dumb to know what one has longing for

I am moved by the orange stitching on a girl’s corduroy book bag

I too wonder what I am happy about

There’s always something natural in pieces,

Like sand or snow. If early Western cultures

Could perceive the surface of the day as wrapping around them like a shell

I wouldn’t be here right now.

Not exactly me, not exactly here, not exactly now. The world spreads out

By how we look at one thing.

I tell myself this, and then I look at things for hours.

Don’t think I don’t know how stupid I sound.

Please do not think I don’t know.”

(Catie Rosemurgy, from “Miss Peach: The College Years”; i’m never sure of the line breaks and punctuation here)

3. Dialogue from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004, dir. Michel Gondry)

CLEMENTINE: I’m Ruth-less at the moment!

JOEL: I really should go.

JOEL: I gotta catch my ride.

CLEMENTINE:

CLEMENTINE: So go.

JOEL: I did.

JOEL: I thought maybe you were a nut.

JOEL: But you were exciting.

CLEMENTINE: I wish you’d stayed!

JOEL: I wish I’d stayed too. Now I wish I’d stayed. I wish I’d done a lot of things.

JOEL: God, I wish...

JOEL: I wish I’d stayed.

JOEL: I do.

CLEMENTINE: Well, I came back downstairs and you were gone!

JOEL: I walked out. I walked out the door

CLEMENTINE: Why?

JOEL: I don’t know, I felt like a scared little kid, it was above my head, I don’t know.

CLEMENTINE: You were scared??

JOEL: Yeah.

JOEL: Thought you knew that about me.

JOEL: I ran back to the bonfire trying to outrun my humiliation, I guess.

CLEMENTINE: Was it something I said?

JOEL: Yeah.

JOEL: You said, “So go.” With such disdain, you know.

CLEMENTINE: Oh, I’m sorry.

JOEL: It’s okay.

(Joel opens the door, starts to run out of the house.)

CLEMENTINE: Joely?

JOEL:

CLEMENTINE: What if you stayed this time?

JOEL: I walked out the door.

JOEL: There’s no memory left.

CLEMENTINE: Come back and make up a goodbye, at least.

CLEMENTINE: Let’s pretend we had one.

(Joel is sitting on a pile of sand in the middle of the collapsing memory beach house. Clementine goes down the stairs to meet him.)

CLEMENTINE: Bye, Joely.

JOEL: I love you.

CLEMENTINE: (whispering in Joel’s ear) Meet me in Montauk.

[sweetwritertanya]

A Halloween First (Original)

Summary: You convince your best friend to go with you to an abandoned house in your small town. And you two happen to be the first ones to go there during Halloween night.

Warnings: HORROR! Nothing graphic or violent in this one, just a spooky atmosphere if anything! Hope to spook you all a little!

Word Count: 1661

“This is not a good idea, this is not a good idea” your best friend keeps repeating like a mantra in a frightened voice, almost as if she didn’t even realize she was saying it.

“Relax, Catie. It’s gonna be fun” you assure her, patting the hands she had so tightly around your left arm that they were almost cutting off its circulation.

“I don’t find anything relating to dead people even remotely fun, Y/N! I don’t know how you even convinced me into coming here” she whined, sounding a bit angry amidst her dread.

“Because you love me and you know nothing bad will happen. I mean, do you really think we are going into this supposedly haunted house, visited by all our classmates multiple times, and we are the ones the ghosts will talk to?” you try and reason with her so she’ll relax.

“What? If you don’t think we’ll communicate with them, why even bothering coming here? Let’s just go back!”

Catie starts pulling at your arm just as you are about twenty feet from the porch. You stand your ground and gather her hands in yours, leveling your eyes with her as you speak, hopefully convincing her once and for all that it was going to be okay.

“Cate, it’s just a spooky abandoned house. Yeah, I don’t think there will be ghosts, but it’s still fun to explore! And it’s Halloween, what better day to go in a haunted house? We’ll talk about this day for years and years, I assure you! C’mon, you won’t regret this.”

“Don’t… Don’t you think others came around to explore too?” she conjectures, eyes looking around the secluded area around the house, the old woods that expanded to the next town over. “Like you said, it’s Halloween, we won’t be the only ones here, right?”

You cross your arms and roll your eyes as you sigh, feeing disappointed again as you thought about why you were so sure no one would come. Including the guy you asked to accompany you at first, only to get dumped a few days before.

“No, everyone must be at that stupid party on the other side of town. Only teenagers would want to come here and they would rather be at that party drunk. So, I’m pretty sure it’s just us.”

Not being that much into big parties anyway, besides not being invited in the first place, you tried to get your closest friends together for the day and celebrate. But only Catie wasn’t very interested in going to a big party like everyone else.

Either way, you figured it was for the best. Living in a small town, there was not much to do besides going to parties every weekend or driving out of town somewhere else. This abandoned house was pretty much old news to everyone else. You were sure there was not a person under the age of twenty-five who had yet to visit this place. Apart from you and Catie, since you two preferred to be left alone at home anyway. But, due to your sudden interest in the paranormal after coming across a show you binge-watched in about three days, going to this haunted house seemed really interesting, even if you were sure not much was going to happen.

“I don’t know, Y/N… Isn’t this trespassing or something?” Catie keeps avoiding going inside.

“Did you see any signs saying anything of the sorts? No, this house was left abandoned for years and the only owner must have died a long time ago. The state must be yet to discover it.”

“Ugrr… Fine, fine! We go inside but if anything happens, I’m running and leaving your deadass behind, hear me?” she declared, with puffy annoyed cheeks that resembled your chubby ones.

“That’s the spirit!” you compliment, choosing the ignore the last part.

Carefully, you climb the three steps to the porch and try to turn the nob of the front door. It must have been locked at some point, but the many visitor the house had, some not really caring about the destruction of property, must have broken in. The door swung open with the latch not really working anymore.

You entered right into what must have been a living room at some point, old ripped couches still in their places, a fireplace crumbling to pieces across from them, old ragged curtains hanging filled with dust. There was still some furniture, amazingly. A broken tv stand and an old-looking credenza with most drawers missing. To your right, next to the wall, you could see the first few steps of the staircase to the second floor before it got to dark. The sun had set and little to no moonlight was coming in through the rusty windows.

“It’s too dark, I don’t like this” your friend whispered, peaking her head through the door but unable to get her feet inside just yet.

“Good thing we have cellphones” you point out, taking yours from your back pack and turning on the flashlight.

You didn’t feel particularly freaked out or scared, exploring the house was much more exciting than anything else. It was a big house, with a ground floor, a second floor, a good-sized attic and even a basement, large rooms that people had trashed and filled the walls with graffiti and, of course, some obscenities and stupid messages. You actually laughed at some of them as you and your best friend walked around, both with the flashlights on your cellphones on, and actually recognized the handwriting of some people you knew.

“I have a pen, should we write something too?” you propose, already searching for the marker you had on your backpack.

“Why bother? It’s not like anyone will see it between all of this mess.”

“Catie, you’re so negative” you inform, already squatting down to a bare spot of white wall and writing something on it. “We’ll just leave a silly joke, you can draw something because you are good at that, and sign with today’s date. You know, I think we are the first ones to come here on Halloween.”

“Really? A Halloween first? With us?” she asks with incredibility, one eyebrow raised when you looked at her to hand her your pen. She hands you her phone for you to give her light as she draws next to your writing.

“Yeah. I mean, people found out about this place like five years ago, right? There was the town’s festival for the first three years, everyone went to that before it got cancelled; last year there was that ugly storm, remember? And this year everyone would rather go to that party instead.”

“What an achievement for two hermits like us” she laughs, standing back up.

You were about to agree when a creak from upstairs catches both yours and your friend’s attention, Catie’s face going pale rather quickly.

“Y/N, what was that?” she asks in such a low voice you almost can’t hear her.

“It… It must be the wood settling? Remember, old house” you try and comfort her, as well as yourself.

A moment in silent and no other suspicious creak or noise happens, supporting your theory. A bit more confident, you manage to convince Catie to keep going and you move to explore upstairs too. One of the windows was broken and cold wind kept blowing through, but other than that it was pretty much an uneventful floor, with all the bedroom completely empty and pilled off wallpaper.

“Should we try and find the entrance to the attic too?” you question your friend, half-expecting an absolute no from her.

“I think it’s getting late and we should go back, don’t you?” she notices. “Can you tell me what time is it?”

It is only then that you realize your friend was not holding her cellphone, like she had when you first came into the house. You frown and tilt your head.

“Where’s your cellphone, Catie?”

“What do you mean? That is my cellphone.”

She points at the one you were currently holding in your hand, using it as a flashlight, and you realize she was right. This was not your phone. You curse and give her the phone back, looking through your backpack to see if you had yours there, but no luck.

“Damn it. I must have left it here somewhere. Do me a favor and ring me so we find it, please?”

“Of course. Let me see… okay, I’m calling.”

She lets her phone continue the call in her hand as both of you strain your ears to try and listen for your ringtone. Sure enough, the faint music picks up and you sigh with relief. You must have left it downstairs.

You and Catie move down the hallway to the stairs, the ringing coming a bit louder now. However, once both of you reach the top of the staircase, you look at Catie with a bit of apprehension in your eyes, eyebrows pulled together with confusion.

“Cate… does… does it seem like the sound it’s coming from the basement?”

You friend gulps, visibly uncomfortable and equally if not more petrified than you.

“Y-yeah, it does…” she agrees.

“But we didn’t go to the basement…” you whisper.

Then it happens, so quickly you almost miss it. The ringing tone stops and the familiar sound of a call being picked up comes through your best friend’s phone. A short, eerie giggle is heard and the call ends. Catie’s hand that was holding her cellphone trembles as you two look at each other with wide scared eyes.

Screams leave your throats as you both automatically start running down the stairs in the direction of the open front door. A door that pointedly closes in your faces before you reach it, latch suddenly working fine, just in time for you to hear the knocks.

No, not a knock at the front door. A knock from the basement’s door.

[atlantablack]

Sneak Peak

So....I absolutely refuse to post this, whatever the hell this is, before I finish my current WIP. Which, I refuse to post anything else at all until I finish this one. But..... i have accidentally started a new WIP... which i 100% blame @caty-314 for. So, to satisfy my need for instant validation i’m going to post a snippet here. You’re welcome, please come scream at me and tell me to get my ass in gear and move back to my other WIP. 

In the end, his magic reveal is as simple as this.

Arthur and Gwen get married, the ceremony like something out of a dream he once had. Gwen glowing and breathless, Arthur radiant and so, so in love (but never with him).

The next morning, a hole in his stomach, drawn by a pull he’s helpless to ignore, he walks into their room (the bed is still made) and drops to his knees. There, sunlight spilling over him, eyes fixed on the ground, he confesses to his crimes, Gwen and Arthur’s eyes heavy on his head.

It feels like penance when Arthur storms from the room, his anger lingering in the air even after he’s gone. Gwen kneels on the floor in front of him, dress whisper quiet where it moves (she hasn’t changed from her wedding dress) and takes his hands in hers, presses a kiss to his cheek, says, “It’s okay. I forgive you, it’s okay.” And it isn’t Arthur, it’s the wrong voice saying the right words but it still causes something inside of him to shatter, breaking its way out of him, leaving him sobbing in Gwen’s arms as she whispers it’s okay, I forgive you, it’s okay, you’re okay, I love you, it’s okay.

[...farther along in the fic..]

He doesn’t know how long they stare at each other, only that it feels like an eternity, the blue of Arthur’s eyes burning their way through him until he feels less than human, his magic straining its way towards the king it was promised.

“You lied,” Arthur says, angry, the hurt hiding in the dip of his shoulders. “You lied to me,”

He doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything, doesn’t know what he could possibly say to an accusation that is nothing but truth. He turns away, drags his eyes away from something he can never own, and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes until he can see nothing but the burst of colors on the back of his eyelids.

Arthur’s hands are gentle around his wrists when he pulls Merlin’s hands away. So, so very gentle. “Stop that,” he says, voice still hard, the gentleness hidden in the way his thumb brushes over Merlin’s pulse as if reminding himself that Merlin is still alive. “You’ll hurt yourself.”